Fresh Start
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: For the I'm about to die challenge. Regulus' last moments and his feelings of regret for joining the Death Eaters and how all he wanted was to be like Sirius, his big brother. R


_For the I'm about to die challenge_

_I don't own anything_

* * *

_**Regulus Black**_

* * *

I leave the note in the bowl inside the locket – fake of course – and replenish the Drink of Despair in what will be my last act.

"Kreacher, I require you to take this locket," I whisper through a throat so thick it feels as if I can barely squeeze the words out. I do not know how my death will come about but I fear that it may be through a lack of oxygen at the current moment in time.

The house elf who has been so loyal to me throughout the years and, during the past seven months, has assisted me greatly in my quest to destroy Voldemort nods his head and takes it from my hand. The removal of the heavy golden locket does little to lift my spirits or my health; in fact, it seems to worsen it.

"Master, you shall return?" he asks me in his squeaky voice but I shrug my shoulders.

"I know that I am going to die for the good of this world, Kreacher and hope that this action will assist in his demise," I do not answer his question but merely skirt around the issue before wrapping him in a hug. My eyes begin to blur as I feel the slid body under my arms until I release him with a smile. "Go, Kreacher. Destroy the locket _but you never saw me here_. Do you understand?" I confirm with him the final part of the plan, the part which will keep my trickery here under wraps for as long as it takes for Dumbledore to find out about the Horcruxes.

He nods, his lower lip quivering, and then disappears with the large crack that symbolises House Elf apparation. I collapse to my knees, panting, and cast a water charm to try and quench my thirst.

No such luck, it appears. Of course it would not be made easy by Voldemort to steal his Horcruxes – he would have engineered it so that the one person able to come here on the boat is the one person here. I have very little clarity of thought remaining but I know one thing enough: the only water which will quench me is the water from the lake.

The Inferi filled lake, I may add.

Swallowing loudly, I scramble to my feet and grab my wand to try and guide my way out to the lake. I only want a little water, so perhaps it shall not disturb the Inferi too much – perhaps they will leave me alone. But, in my heart, I know that this is where I shall meet my end.

I panic slightly, knowing that I shall not be on this earth that much longer. Yet I know that I have done a great deal of wrong in my short eighteen years on this earth but perhaps – _perhaps_ – this is the way that I can redeem myself. Perhaps my death here will ensure that I am able to go to heaven or wherever it is that the 'good' people go to.

I scrabble down the island thing, unable to see straight, and dip down to run my finger in the water. Instantly, _things_ begin to move in the water and I recognise them as bodies long dead, magically animated to do the Dark Lord's bidding.

I loose my footing and stumble.

I fall from the island and land with a plop in the water, gulping in the fresh, clean, _good_ water to cleanse my head. It allows me a moment to think clearly before I realise something…

… The things are moving.

I begin to panic, knowing that they will be after me. They will want to claim me for themselves, their reward for allowing me to regain a short train of thought. So I look around for my wand, splashing to try and swim back to the island – I seem to have almost _jumped_ further into the lake as I went – to try and recover my wand from the dry land.

I never make it.

I swim further forwards, kicking out violently to hit the Inferi which tries to take me in the head. But it doesn't deter them, simply causes them to latch onto my leg tighter. As they do this another one comes in; it takes my right leg this time whilst more pull my clothes from underneath.

I scream out and fight to keep my head above water but I end up drinking in the water. It no longer tastes like heaven; it tastes of death and rotting materials – utterly disgusting. Yet I swallow the rancid substance in order to tilt my head back to keep my nose above the watermark, so that I can continue to breathe, to stay living.

I never got to tell Sirius I love him, that I am sorry for causing him so much grief. I never got to tell him that I wish I had never joined the Dark Lord, that I only ever wanted to be like him and that I failed miserably.

More Inferi swim up and take a hold of my hair, pulling me down into the depths of the lake with them. I know I cannot win; I can only die.

I give up the fight and simply close my eyes, close my mouth, close my ears, close _everything_. I cannot cope with this life anymore; perhaps death can bring with it peace and tranquillity, the chance to restart and to never make the same mistakes again. I hope I can have a fresh start, a clean slate, in this next life be it as a mole in North Africa or in heaven.

I allow the Inferi to drag me down to their safe haven in the depths of the lake and feel myself leaving my body with every metre down they swim. Yet I do not feel pain as I drown, I simply feel woozy.

But I focus on Sirius' face and that is what keeps it numb.

They reach their home but I am no longer there, I am floating and heading onto my next life.

* * *

_Whatcha think?_

_Vicky xx_


End file.
